Before he was Cracker, Robbie Coltrane was Danny McGlone, singer with an ageing rock'n'roll band called the Majestics. Before he was Victor Meldrew, Richard Wilson was Mr Clockerty, the band's devious, penny-pinching manager. And before she was, well, lots of things, Emma Thompson was Suzi Kettles, a quiff-sporting guitar-player who joins the band on its silver jubilee tour of some of the dreariest venues in Scotland.

Could such a cast be assembled today? It's doubtful. But seeing such big names in their early days (Coltrane is remarkably light on his feet) is just one of the surprises of Tutti Frutti. Written by playwright John Byrne, the 1987 BBC black comedy won six Baftas and went on to achieve cult status.

Danny arrives back in Glasgow for the funeral of his brother Big Jazza, the Majestics frontman who was killed one night as he drove drunk to get kebabs – a detail as 80s as the haircuts. Danny steps into his brother's blue suede shoes and what follows is a hilarious romp around Scotland, in which we slowly discover the band members' personal lives are as unsuccessful as their professional ones.

Byrne's ear for dialogue is as acute as his eye for detail, and the whole thing rattles from one sorry drama to the next. There's the discovery of a love child, a dentist assaulted with his own drill, and a suicide jump into the Clyde, all of which build to a stunning climax: the Majestics' tour finale at the Glasgow Pavilion. Grieving for the young woman he was having an affair with, guitarist Vincent Diver (the man with the lowest sperm count in history) douses himself with vodka and sets himself alight on stage. This scene follows the extraordinary spectacle of Danny finally bedding Suzi, after which he has a rant in the darkened bedroom. "Are you finished?" Suzi asks, when he shuts up. "Stop asking me that," replies Danny. "That's the second time you've asked me that."